


24K Magic

by feidlimid



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Adulting is hard, Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Choi Seungcheol King of the Dad Jokes, Drinking, Drunken Serenading, Indulgent Uses of Bruno Mars, Light Cringe, M/M, MA Student Lee Jihoon, Office Worker Lee Seokmin, Slow Burn, Yoon Jeonghan and Kwon Soonyoung Are Bad Influences, coffee shop AU, open mic night au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:40:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26909026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feidlimid/pseuds/feidlimid
Summary: It’s not like Jihoon was expecting to be hit by lightning at his local open mic night or anything, and really, that’s not how he’d describe it. But as he watched the man on stage start to rock his body back in forth in time with the song, he felt like Lee Seokmin might be someone worth hanging around for...Friday nights at The Cherry Pit.
Relationships: Boo Seungkwan/Chwe Hansol | Vernon, Lee Jihoon | Woozi/Lee Seokmin | DK, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 27





	1. Pop, pop, it's showtime

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this on a dare, and it's turning into a monster. Five million thoughts about Seokhoon to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: There is a moment when someone puts alcohol into another person’s drink without their knowledge, but the drinker does not consume it before becoming aware of its presence.

It had been a while since Seokmin had gotten together with Jeonghan and Soonyoung for their typical Friday night happy hours. Now that they were all working professionals, they had developed a routine of having a quick round of drinks at the bar close to their offices, before heading home to get ready for dates, shows, or wherever the weekend would take them. For the last few weeks, though, Seokmin had been absolutely swamped. His office mates had looked at him sympathetically as he settled in for another late night each Friday, but now that he had finally finished his final report just before the end of the quarter, he walked with a new lightness as he headed over to their regular spot. He pulled the door open and immediately noticed Jeonghan and Soonyoung had already commandeered a table in the corner.

“Did you really start without me?”

“Well, we couldn’t be sure you were actually making it out tonight after you blew us off for three weeks straight,” Jeonghan snarked at him, but with a smile that betrayed the content of his words. 

Seokmin leaned down to hug the older man. “I missed you too, hyung.”

“And what about me? 

Soonyoung looked up petulantly until Seokmin planted an obnoxious kiss on his forehead with a smack.

“Thank you. Though, I’d say you owe us the next round of drinks too.”

Seokmin sighed and rolled his eyes, but sat down, loosened his tie, and began nursing the Moscow mule that was waiting at the table for him.

“It’s been a rough few weeks for you, hasn’t it?” Jeonghan patted him on the arm with a sympathetic smile that was already growing a little fuzzy around the edges.

“Yeah...I thought it was rough when I started back in August, but this report just kicked my ass.” Seokmin stared down at the Victorian mosaic tiling on the floor and felt the fatigue sink back into his bones a little. 

Soonyoung gave a low whistle. “That City Hall bureaucracy is no joke, huh? I thought they worked us hard over at Montverde...but ad copy’s got nothing on all the red tape in social services.”

“Heh, yeah...I didn’t think it would be so much paperwork and so little...actually helping people…” Seokmin trailed off, then raised his mug, “But tonight, we drink! To the weekend!” 

Soonyoung and Jeonghan exchanged a brief glance before raising their glasses. “To the weekend!”

“Where’s the night taking us tonight, boys?” Jeonghan leaned in conspiratorially, the gentle concern of the previous moment replaced by a gleam in his eyes.

Soonyoung pulled a flyer out of his jacket pocket. “Who’s interested in haunting some old stomping grounds?”

\--OPEN MIC NIGHT--

APRIL 4, 7PM

THE CHERRY PIT

“Oh shit! The Cherry Pit!? We haven’t all been there together since you graduated!” Seokmin exclaimed, eyes wide with excitement. Even though he graduated a year after Soonyoung, two after Jeonghan, it just hadn’t felt the same to go to their old favorite cafe after his two partners in study...but more often crime...had left school. 

“I saw the flyer when I was getting coffee over at Tradewinds this morning and knew we couldn’t pass it up.”

“Sold.” Seokmin said, with a certainty brought about by the way the vodka was beginning to bloom in his veins.

Jeonghan took another sip of his drink and looked at Soonyoung with a small grin. “Sold...but only if Seokmin…” A small glance in his direction. “will sing for us tonight.”

Seokmin sputtered on his drink a little before composing himself. “Hyung, you know I don’t even go to karaoke anymore…”

“Exactly! What better opportunity to get back in the habit. I’m looking forward to it.” Jeonghan winked, while Soonyoung began to bounce his leg in excitement. 

“Hey, if you’re nervous, we could duet. I’ve been dying to recreate our epic ‘Kiss from a Rose’ moment from sophomore year.” Soonyoung smiled fondly at the memory while Seokmin tried to stifle a cringe at the thought of his 18-year-old self slurring the words at a group karaoke party.

Seokmin took another mouthful of his drink. “Look...okay...we’ll see what the vibe is and maybe…”

Soonyoung clapped him on the back and roared, “Okay! Time to get you loose and ready to go. Round 2! Get me a G&T, Tanqueray.”

“And I’ll have another martini...and tell them to make it dirtier this time.”

Seokmin sighed as he stood up, but couldn’t help but be a little thrilled at the catalyst that Jeonghan and Soonyoung were always sure to bring to his life. He smiled to himself as he walked to the bar, ready for whatever the night was going to throw their way. 

**************

Jihoon slumped low in his chair, emotionally steeling himself to bang out the last sentences of his response post. He regretted taking a course outside of his major track when he didn’t need it for his degree, but the course description had looked so interesting back at the start of the semester. As he typed up his last few notes, the sounds of tables and chairs being pushed into a new configuration broke his concentration. He looked up to see the cafe’s assistant manager smiling softly down at him. 

“We’re getting ready for open mic night in a few minutes. Just wanted to let you know if you need a little extra time to pack up and get out of dodge for a quieter space.”

“Thanks for the heads up, Shua. I’m actually just finishing up, so I thought I might stay around this time. Not like an MA student has anything better to do on a Friday night…”

Joshua chuckled sympathetically. “Who knows, might be a surprise tonight…” 

They shared a look, knowing that the session was just as likely to devolve into Seungcheol on the mic tipsily crooning “Closing Time,” while Mingyu and Seungkwan bussed the last of the tables at 10PM.

Jihoon had staked out this cafe as his designated study space since the fall, and, at this point, was nearly as much of a fixture as the rustic Mason jar centerpieces on each of the cafe’s tables. He wasn’t much one for working in libraries, needing the ambient noise of conversation to help him focus on reading or writing tasks...and to balance out the long night hours of isolation in the studio as he worked to submit a new composition for evaluation each week. Getting an MA in music production seemed like a good idea after various band projects had come together and fallen apart over the last five years. Jihoon knew he was talented, that he had what it took to create the best possible version of the music in his head...it was just a matter of finding the right people to make it a reality with. Hansol always said his standards were too high. But while good collaborators might be hard to come by, they were essential for what he wanted...needed to bring into the world. 

He was startled from his thoughts by the clatter of metal on wood and Seungkwan’s shout as he tried to catch Mingyu from falling flat on his face after tripping over the mic stand and getting tangled in the cord. Things always got a little out of hand when the two of them had scheduled their shifts together. Jihoon stifled a chuckle as Seungkwan began to scold the taller boy, all the while he seemed to entangle himself more with every attempt to extricate himself from the situation.

He pushed his chair back and stood up with a groan before strolling over to the counter to switch his order from coffee to something a bit more suited to what this open mic night...was nearly sure to bring. It took a second for Seungcheol to notice him, absorbed in drying off a round of beer glasses and keeping an eye on the barely controlled chaos of Seungkwan trying to untangle Mingyu from a mess of his own making. 

Jihoon finally made eye contact with him, as he slung the dishtowel over his shoulder and strode over to the register. “What’ll it be tonight, Sam?”

“I told you no one gets that reference anymore.”

“But you’re acknowledging it as a reference, so I’ll count it as a win.” Seungcheol quickly stuck out his tongue before reverting to genial cafe owner mode.

“Is that really how you should be treating customers? So unprofessional.” Jihoon smirked behind his glasses. “I’ll have a Blue Moon.”

“Coming right up. Bottle or glass?” 

“Bottle. No need to make more dishes for Mingyu to wash tonight...seems like he’s having enough of a struggle already.”

Seungcheol chuckled as he uncapped the beer and placed it on the counter, before turning the iPad for Jihoon to sign. 

“Figured you didn’t want to open a tab, but if that changes, just let me know.”

“We’ll see how the night goes…” Jihoon replied, grabbing his beer from the counter and turning back toward his table.

*************

Seokmin stumbled a little as he stepped into the cafe, after holding the door for Soonyoung and Jeonghan. It was fifteen after the hour, and they were all well-buzzed after two and a half rounds at the bar. As his eyes adjusted to the dim, warm light, the smell of worn wooden tables, smoky candles, and the sweet blend of espresso drinks and beer filled his nose with the memory of years spent studying, playing, or just shooting the shit...life had seemed so much wider and smaller then. He shook his head at the half-formed thoughts, then picked up his pace to catch up with the other two, who were stashing their work satchels on a couple of worn couches around a low coffee table. 

“How we feeling, kiddos? Beers for the table?” Soonyoung plopped himself down on the couch, quickly settling in and spreading his arms and legs in a way that made it clear he had no intention of putting in the order himself. His black necktie was already loosened down to the second button of his shirt, collar unbuttoned and threatening to reveal the flush that was creeping down from his neck to his chest.

“Mmmm, maybe our Seokminnie should get a tea... Got to get his voice in tip top shape for when he goes on stage tonight.” Jeonghan looked up expectantly, as he settled himself into the armchair next to Soonyoung and crossed his legs. 

Finding himself left standing, Seokmin looked between them and quickly realized he was being designated the responsible party. 

“The usual?”

“Thanks, Seokminnie! We love you!” Soonyoung beamed up at him so brightly that Seokmin couldn’t help but smile back. 

As he made his way to the bar, he nearly tripped over a computer cord that snaked out from the tables that lined the wall and had to slam his hand down to keep from falling. 

“Ah! Sorry about that. All good?” Seokmin looked over at the boy gripping the table and his beer to avoid them tipping over. Maybe he was getting older faster than he thought, but damn, college students looked young as hell now. Was this guy even old enough to drink?

“No worries. Nothing quick hands can’t fix.” He replied with a slightly rough voice that betrayed his face, throwing Seokmin into further confusion. He clasped his hands in a conciliatory gesture, and smiled at him before heading over to the bar. The boy shook his head with a little huff and chuckled to himself before turning back to whatever work he was occupied with. 

Seokmin rested his hands on the wood, smooth and a little bit sticky, as he examined the menu and waited for the barista to turn around. When he looked up, he couldn’t help but exclaim in surprise. 

“Seungcheol-hyung! Since when are you hanging out behind the counter? ...are you running the show here now?”

“Oh snap! Seokmin! I haven’t seen you around here since...last year. Damn, how have you been?” Seungcheol reached over the counter to slap Seokmin on the shoulder.

“I’m...I’m good. Working now across town...it’s good.” Seokmin felt the warmth from Seungcheol’s hand radiate through his body, as what little tension remained drained from his shoulders, pulling him down to rest his elbows on the bar with ease. 

“Aw, man that’s good to hear. And yeah...I took over after Sunmi-noona decided she wanted to go to business school. I’ve been manager for, I guess, about a year now?”

Even though Seungcheol had graduated in the same year as Jeonghan, he had hung around campus working at The Cherry Pit, saying that he’d move on to the next thing once it...felt right. He had a tendency to dig in his heels a little when he had found a soft place to land, so Seokmin honestly wasn’t all that surprised to hear that he was managing the place now.

“Well, shit, man. Good for you! It looks great in here.” 

Seungcheol smiled shyly at the praise. “What’s everyone having tonight? The usual?” He glanced over in the direction of the corner where Soonyoung and Jeonghan were holding private court.

“The usual for them, and uh...tea for me.”

Seungcheol quirked an eyebrow. “You singing tonight?”

“Yeah, well, maybe…” Seokmin felt his thoughts swim just a little at the thought of standing on the little corner stage where some undergrad was currently making his way through an acoustic rendition of “Wonderwall.” 

“Well, I, for one, think it would be the highlight of the night.”

Seokmin pulled out his credit card from his wallet and tried to keep his face calm. “Heh, yeah, well it’s been a while, so I might be pretty rusty. Don’t get your hopes up too high.”

“I’ll keep it open.” Seungcheol said with a wink as he swiped the card.

Seokmin was relieved that he let the subject drop and realized just how much he missed this place. Ever since he moved across the city to be closer to his office, he had felt just...ever so slightly out of place. It wasn’t like he had moved cities or anything like some of his friends had after graduation. And he still had his closest friends around...but it was like...there wasn’t a cafe in his neighborhood where everyone knew his name. He didn’t have his bar, his laundromat, his grocery store. It had only been a few months since his lease started, so he guessed it was par for the course, but being back in *his* space with *his* people. There was nothing like it.

Seungcheol looked up from where he was brewing the tea. “You don’t have to wait, y’know. I’ll just bring it over to your table when I’m done. I want to say hi to those jokers anyway.” 

Seokmin turned back and saw the jokers in question waving at the bar with exaggerated gestures. He was sure they were just as eager to catch up with Seungcheol, too, as lazy as they were after a couple of rounds.

Seokmin smiled broadly at the older man’s kindness. “Thanks, hyung. I’ll let them know you’ll come over.”

Seungcheol clicked his tongue to dismiss Seokmin, but called back to him as soon as he turned away. “Hey, remember, sign-ups close in fifteen minutes. So now’s about your last chance to get a slot tonight.”

The ball of nerves that had evaporated from Seokmin’s gut suddenly returned again, but he managed another bright grin in Seungcheol’s direction. “Thanks, got it!”

**************

Besides the overly solicitous man who had interrupted his mindless scrolling through Twitter...mostly filled with cute animal videos at this point, the night was progressing about as Jihoon had expected. He was polite enough to keep from putting in headphones once the open mic session had officially kicked off, but he couldn’t help but mutter under his breath in grim bemusement that every undergrad with a guitar thinks it’s valid to cover Oasis. He casually looked over at the bar, where the man was leaning forward on his elbows. His loosening posture and lolling smile hinted that he was already a few drinks in before getting here, but it seemed like he and Seungcheol were familiar with one another. Jihoon wondered if he was an alum...if so, must be recent. As the man turned to walk back to his friends, who were talking animatedly to Jihoon’s left, he realized he had been staring and quickly returned his gaze to his laptop screen. He wasn’t so tuned out, though, to not notice when the lanky fellow walked past his table again with another apologetic glance, which Jihoon returned with a brief nod. There wasn’t any need to think that much about a dumb mistake like that...weird kid. He turned his attention back to the bar for a second, where he noticed Seungcheol tip a shot of whiskey into the tea he was brewing. Jihoon’s eyes went wide as a premonition of impending shenanigans washed over him, along with the final notes of “Wonderwall.” 

“Well, this just got a little more interesting…”

************

Seokmin quickly let Soonyoung and Jeonghan know that the drinks would be out in a second before making his way through the tables over to the sign up sheet. 

“Last minute entry?” 

Seokmin looked up from where he was writing and made brief eye contact with a boy wearing a slightly self-important expression and sitting behind the table.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“Are you gonna need the sound system...or?”

“Uhhh, I’m not sure. Put me down as a maybe?”

The boy lightly rolled his eyes at Seokmin before explaining, “Well, if you need the AUX cable you need to let us know fifteen minutes before your call. I’m guessing you didn’t bring an instrument if you’re not prepared to know if you need accompaniment, so…”

“Seungkwan, leave him alone. Can’t you see he’s nervous?” A tall boy sidled up to the table and cut off the lecture that seemed ready to unfold. He flashed a toothy grin at Seokmin before taking a look at the schedule. “You’re going on in the last block, so just like let me know what you’re doing by 9, and I’ll get you all set up.” 

Seokmin breathed out deeply and shot Mingyu a look of gratitude. 

“Mingyu-yah, you can’t just let everybody who wants show up without a plan. There’s a _system_ for a reason.”

Mingyu waved his hand at Seokmin to let him know the situation really no longer concerned him and began to rebut Seungkwan’s points as soon as he made them. Seokmin weaved his way back to the group’s cozy corner and wondered when open mic night had gotten so intense. He swallowed thickly but felt relief as he noticed Seungcheol walking over with a tray full of drinks. Soonyoung scooted a bit to make room for him on the couch, and he settled in just in time for Seungcheol to start placing drinks on the table. 

“It’s been a while, Seungcheollie. Still breaking everyone’s hearts with those long macchiatos?” Jeonghan Cheshire cat smiled down at him, as he placed two Coronas with limes on the table before gently setting down Seokmin’s tea. 

“You know it. And you know you haven’t found anyone better since me.” Seungcheol looked up from where he was squatting next to their table with a flirtatious gleam in his eye before dissolving into a laugh. “God, I missed seeing you guys all here together. Soonyoung sometimes comes by because, indeed, he cannot resist a well-made espresso drink, but it really feels like the old days now…”

Soonyoung laughed good-naturedly, if a little too loud, “Hyung, you should have known you wouldn’t be able to get rid of us. The Cherry Pit would turn into a Maraschino without us.” 

Seungcheol nodded sagely as if he understood what that meant, and moved to stand up. Seokmin picked up his steaming drink, and raising it to his lips, caught a strong whiff of whiskey that made him pull a face in surprise. Seungcheol looked down with a smile and whispered, “Just in case you need a little more liquid courage.”

Jeonghan and Soonyoung were too wrapped up in whatever lengthy toast was tumbling out of Soonyoung’s mouth, so Seokmin shared a secret smile with Seungcheol before lifting the hot toddy to his lips and revelling in the way the heat of the liquid and the burn of the whiskey felt going down his throat. He started to absently scroll through his phone...going through old favorite songs in search of capturing a little bit of magic again. 

By the time he finished his tea and Soonyoung came back with the next round of drinks, Seokmin was leaning against Jeonghan and giggling with him about the time Soonyoung dared Seungcheol to climb the belltower together at 1AM, but had forgotten the key and had to get rescued by security the next morning.

“It wasn’t that funny! We had to go to the dean’s office after! My parents were so pissed,” Soonyoung bellowed, drawing the unhappy glances of people attempting to appreciate the rather skillful Norah Jones cover being executed by a pretty young woman.

Jeonghan and Seokmin only laughed harder, grabbing their beers from Soonyoung, and clinking them together. Seokmin concentrated intently on squeezing his lime into the beer only to look up and see Soonyoung grinning at him with a lime wedge in place of his smile. Clearly, the only response was to stop what he was doing and mirror Soonyoung back at him...until they both collapsed with laughter and had to catch messy citrus falling from their mouths. Seokmin’s haze of giggles was broken by a distinct throat clearing from the right, and he looked over to see the computer boy from before giving them a disapproving look. At that point, the alcohol had taken enough of an effect to stave off Seokmin’s social anxiety, and he clasped his hands together in apology, looking over at the boy with what he hoped was his most charming conciliatory smile. The boy nodded quietly again but quickly turned his head away, and, if Seokmin didn’t know any better, he might have guessed he was holding in a laugh.

************

Jihoon absentmindedly traced the outline of the letters on the Mason jar in the middle of the table...“B-a-l-l,” before reaching the cherry motif embossed on the glass. His beer was long since gone, and, with the exception of the boisterous group next to him, not much had piqued his excitement over the course of the night. In other circumstances, he would have found them annoying and wondered why Seungkwan didn’t come by and at least give them a warning. But it seemed like Seungcheol had warned the feisty barista off of them. And honestly, it was fun to watch his prediction for the night play out, as the tall boy with the too kind face got looser and clingier with his friends with every sip. They looked...warm together, and he felt a bit of chagrin as his mind flashed a picture of his empty studio apartment at the thought. For now, he was trying to focus on his work, focus on the degree, and focus on what’s next. 

However, he didn’t expect what was next tonight. He noticed movement out of the corner of his eye, and saw Mr. Sorry lurching up from the couch and heading toward Mingyu with his phone lit up in his hand. Jihoon had somehow missed the moment where the overly apologetic stranger had put his name down for the set, and all of a sudden, the prospect of paying attention to the stage got a lot more compelling. He wondered if the boy had simply volunteered on a dare, suspecting as much from the way his two friends leered in the corner like drunk hyenas. But the way Mingyu looked up at him interestedly, with that dumb puppy face he gets when someone’s doing something a little out of the box, gave Jihoon some pause. He began to tap his fingers along the edge of the table, wondering how many more singers before he could find out if the night’s variety star also had singing chops. His fingers kept idly moving, while his eyes stilled on the line of the other man’s neck, as he rested his head on the wall for support. The fairy lights from the stage gave his skin a golden glow, and Jihoon swallowed sympathetically, if a little uncomfortably, when he noticed the other man’s Adam’s apple bob hard as he swallowed a nervous gulp. He knew the feeling of going on stage while not completely prepared, and from the looks of the dark slacks on his long legs, this wasn’t something he did every day. He wondered what circumstances had led to this turn of events, as a jazz trumpet soloist wrapped up their piece to a smattering of applause. The other man unbuttoned his white collar and loosened his tie, as Seungkwan’s voice echoed over the mic. 

“Next, we have Mr. Lee Seokmin…are you ready to go?” 

The man nodded and unsteadily pushed himself up from the wall, walking over to the stage and settling on the stool, before awkwardly reaching up to grab the mic from its stand.

“ _This is not a good sign…_ ” Jihoon hummed quietly with concern. He felt himself oddly start to root for the drunk boy, so clearly in over his head. 

The lights shone down on his head, creating a funny little halo when he bobbed it to signal to Mingyu that he was ready to start the song. As the first synth chord played over the cafe’s sound system, Jihoon’s breath caught in his throat. This was...quite the choice. He had a moment of panic that this complete stranger had somehow accessed his Spotify data. Then he opened his mouth.

“ _Let’s take our time tonight, girl. Above us all the stars are watching…_ ”

“ _Oh shit._ ” Jihoon’s brain began to race. 

Seokmin’s... _“His name is Seokmin_ ,” Jihoon registered. Seokmin’s previous wobbly posture had completely disappeared, as he propped one leg on the bar of the stool and put his free hand on his chest. Jihoon noticed that he held the microphone like this wasn’t his first time on the stage. The nerves that made him think the other man was just a chump, too tipsy and sweet to talk his friends out of setting him up for embarrassment, had faded away into sheer charisma on the stage. 

“ _Underneath the chandelier, we’re dancing all alone. There’s no reason to hide, what we feeling inside right now._ ”

Jihoon unconsciously leaned forward and licked his lips. Seokmin’s voice easily glided over the notes in a way that belied his earlier shrieks of laughter. He wished he had bothered to move to the actual audience area instead of hanging out in the back. His cheek had begun to feel heated under his fingers, and as he shifted his chin to a more comfortable position in his palm, he wondered why he was feeling the warmth from the beer even though he had stopped drinking at least an hour ago. 

“ _So baby, let’s just turn down the lights, and close the door._ ” Jihoon’s chest clenched as he waited for the next line. “ _Oooh I love that dress, but you won’t need it anymore._ ” He internally pumped his fist as Seokmin’s face stretched along with his voice to hit the high notes of the verse. This guy could...sell a song. Jihoon knew it by heart and had sung it himself any number of times in the shower, as his neighbors might be able to attest...but Seokmin’s vocal register added an ache to the song that not many people could.

“ _Let’s just kiss ‘til we’re naked, baby_. _Versace on the floor._ ” 

It’s not like Jihoon was expecting to be hit by lightning at his local open mic night or anything, and really, that’s not how he’d describe it. But as he watched the man on stage start to rock his body back in forth in time with the song, he felt like Lee Seokmin might be someone worth hanging around for...Friday nights at The Cherry Pit. 

************

Seokmin’s face lit up with a smile as the drum machine kicked in with the chorus. He could hear some scattered applause from the audience, the loudest of which came from his own personal cheering section in the corner, but he was more surprised at how secure he felt on stage. When he heard Seungkwan announce his name, he honestly wanted to cut and run (and hurl his guts out in the alley out back). The world was practically swimming when he walked onto the stage, but the second Mingyu hit play, everything seemed to come into soft focus. His voice, a little shaky on the first line after months of disuse, smoothed out along with the track in a way that made him feel more at home in his own body than he could chalk up to just the booze. 

After laughing off a little awkward eye contact with a woman in the front row at the start of the second verse, Seokmin closed his eyes and settled in for the next few lines. He tried his best to embody the want, the thirst of the lines, but realized that it had honestly been a while since he really felt like...he wanted anything. He broke up with his last partner at graduation, before he moved across the country for a job; and beyond a few casual dates and hookups, he had thrown most of his energy into keeping up with the demands of his new job. He always felt like he was someone with so much love to give...and who wanted to give so much love, but maybe this was just what it was like being a grownup...no sense in putting some boy before a career. He breathed in in preparation for the next line.

“ _Don’t be confused by my smile, ‘cause I ain’t ever been more for real...for real.”_ Seokmin leaned over with the note and shook his hand as if dragging his voice out to meet the sincerity of the moment. The audience began to clap and cheer as he sat up again and opened his eyes, seeing Soonyoung and Jeonghan already giving him a standing ovation atop the couches in the back. He grinned awkwardly while taking a breath, when he noticed that the computer boy had shut his laptop partway and was watching him intently, glasses gone a little crooked from where his hand was pushing up his cheek. “ _Oh, I guess he did want to be here after all_.” By the time he got to the second chorus, Seokmin could feel the young man’s gaze warming up his skin, rivaling the lights on stage.

And then the whiskey from earlier in the night started talking, “ _Hey, Seokmin, what if you sing the rest of the song to him? It’ll make the song feel a little more real, I bet…”_ Seokmin was never one to say no to a good idea. So, he stood up as the bridge began and walked off the stage into the audience, making eye contact with the boy, dimly lit by the tea light at the center of the table and the glow from his computer. He felt a little unsteady on his feet, but the way the audience turned to look at him felt like a wave at his back.

_“Can you feel it? Can you feel it, baby? Ohhh, seems like you’re ready for more more more,”_ Seokmin bent over further with each “ _more,_ ” channeling the spirit of the R&B singers he had grown up idolizing, oblivious both to the hoots from the couches and to the fact that the boy was getting redder with each note. _“Let’s just kiss ‘til we’re na-”_ All of a sudden the mic cut out with a pop. Seokmin looked up in surprise, as he realized he had exceeded the range of the cord, then turned around to see Seungkwan’s lips turn into a small O. The audience began to whoop and laugh, and Seokmin looked around for a few seconds before laughing with them and launching into the rest of the song without amplification in the middle of the chairs. 

By the time he got to the end, the tiny crowd was on their feet with him, and he beamed with the feeling that only too many drinks and a successful performance could give him. Soonyoung and Jeonghan were slapping his back, yelling way too loudly about how proud they were and how bad they felt for whoever had to go on after him. They shuffled him back to the couches, but not before he stole a glance over at the small table where Computer Boy was packing up his things to go. A wave of panic washed over him, as he realized he must have made him so uncomfortable, singing at him in public like that. But before he could really process the emotion, Jeonghan and Soonyoung were dragging him down to cuddle on the couch and crow a little more about how their favorite municipal worker in the city was a fucking star by night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 1 of this slow, slow burn is out into the world! Apologies for the excessive puns, silliness, and meditations on "Versace on the Floor."


	2. Guess who's back again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As he opened the door, a little bell tinkled to announce his presence, making Seungcheol look up from where he was working. Seokmin felt a blush immediately spread across his face, and he had to resist the urge to hide behind the flowers. He breathed deeply and stepped forward toward the counter with all the resolve he could muster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Non-graphic mention of vomiting.

Jihoon spent the rest of the weekend trying to work and trying to shake the events of Friday night from his mind. Neither activity was particularly successful. By Sunday evening, he still had two compositions due and only two half finished measures staring him down in Ableton. He ran his hands through his dirty blonde hair and picked up his phone from where it rested on the desk.

{Hansol, come get coffee with me.}

{Hyung, it’s like 10PM already. I have work in the morning.}

{I’m so behind on my beats. I need someone to bounce ideas with. Come to the studio.}

Jihoon added a sticker that he hoped would pull on his classmate’s weakness to anything round and cute.

Three dots appeared and disappeared. Then the unfamiliar ring of FaceTime made him nearly drop his phone before he awkwardly swiped to answer. 

“What the fuck, Hansol. Since when do you FaceTime me?”

“Since when are you late on anything? You’re being weird. What’s going on?”

Jihoon sighed. “Nothing, just got busy this weekend, that’s all.”

“I can see the takeout boxes behind you. You didn’t go outside once. What’s the deal?”

Jihoon kicked himself for not maintaining a tidier house and for picking up the phone in the first place. He might have only known Hansol since the beginning of the school year, but leave it to him to see right through Jihoon’s bullshit. 

“I just…” Jihoon sighed and shifted uncomfortably in his office chair. “There was someone at The Cherry Pit Friday night...a singer.”

“You sat through open mic night? Damnnn…I always have to listen to Seungkwan complain about it every Friday after he gets home.”

“I dunno, you never know who might show up. And I had been using their wifi all day, so I felt like I should at least order a beer or something.”

Jihoon rolled his eyes at Hansol’s endeared chuckle and continued, “Anyway, there was this kid there, this guy, and like he was clearly drunk as shit, but he fucking did Bruno Mars and just killed it. I can’t stop thinking about it…”

“Wait, which Bruno Mars?”

Jihoon reddened a bit, “Versace on the Floor.” He decided that the detail of the man--“ _Seokmin_ ,” his brain helped--serenading him wasn’t relevant to share with Hansol.

“Oh, hyung….that must have been a lot for you.” Hansol barely stifled a snicker.

“He...pulled it off well.” Jihoon cleared his throat, “And now I can’t stop thinking about his voice. I wish I had been recording so I could sample it for this assignment…”

“Did you learn nothing in our ethics class last semester?” Hansol sighed incredulously. “Wait, is this the same drunk guy that was with his friends and wouldn’t shut up all night? Seungkwan said he was about to kick them out, but Seungcheol wouldn’t let him. Seems like they’re all friends? Why don’t you just talk to him the next time you’re in there and see if you can get his contact info?”

Jihoon stared blankly into the camera. He was always amazed at how direct Hansol could be...his thoughts, his speech, his plans. But this seemed like a bridge too far. He didn’t want to seem like a creep or anything, though, in fairness, he wasn’t the one who had basically propositioned someone by song.

He shook his head, “Hansol, that would be weird as hell and you know it. Ugh, I’ll just get coffee at the convenience store and make something happen tonight.” 

“Suit yourself. But you did tell me that good people are hard to come by...might make sense to not pass up a good thing. Just saying…”

“Thanks, man. I’ll see you in class Monday.” Jihoon slid his thumb to end the call but felt no more at ease than he did when it began. He sank back into his chair before pushing himself up to stand and head out the door.

************

Seokmin sat on the edge of his bed and rubbed his hands over his face. It was Sunday night, but the hangover from Saturday morning was just now beginning to recede. He barely remembered what happened after they left The Cherry Pit, but it definitely involved Seungcheol joining the group and lots of soju, before a taxi deposited him back at his apartment and he stumbled into bed. 

He checked the time on his phone-- _8:58PM_ \--and slouched into the kitchen to pour himself a glass of water. Jeonghan always said dehydration is the enemy of a good night’s sleep, and, if his chaotic weekend sleep schedule was any indication, he needed to chug a gallon. He swiped through his phone, cringing as he scrolled up through his messages and saw the video of his performance Soonyoung had sent the group chat. Seokmin couldn’t believe that he had been such a ham--agreeing to sing at open mic night was one thing, but trying to get some guy he didn’t even know to swoon for him in order to enhance the show...was truly overkill. He wiped a little bit of sleep from his eye, before turning on the faucet to splash some water on his face. 9:00PM now...too early to go back to sleep, but too late to really go out and do anything...not that he knew what there _was_ to do in this neighborhood. It was times like these when he regretted deciding to live alone, believing that he needed the challenge after having a series of roommates throughout four years of college. Also believing he’d want the privacy as an eligible young bachelor fresh out of a serious relationship and looking to sow some wild oats...or at least barley.

Seokmin grabbed his phone again and headed to the living room to watch some TV, resigning himself to ultimately passing out for the night on the couch or, if he was lucky, managing to wake up by 2AM and put himself back in bed. He flipped through the channels aimlessly before settling on a news magazine and listening to the host introduce some fluff piece about a dog sanctuary. Typically, he would have eaten up a story like that, but now, he settled his body deeper into the couch and picked up his phone again to scroll through Instagram. But before he could open the app, he noticed a little red “1” on his Venmo. 

“ _I don’t remember charging Jeonghan or Soonyoung for drinks...probably should have but...who the hell is sending me money?_ ” Seokmin hit the blue square with his thumb and looked at his notifications. It was from Seungcheol. He pulled a face at the opening line of emoji and tapped in.

{🚕🤢😰 I love you, Seokminnie, but that cab driver was really upset and charged me extra for cleaning…}

“Oh, shiiiiit.” Seokmin wiped his hand over his face as memories from the rest of Friday night came flooding back in. Seungcheol had promised to pay for his cab back home after egging him on into another round of shots, but he hadn’t foreseen just how much of a lightweight Seokmin had become since college. He remembered Seungcheol’s strong arms holding him up in the cab, Soonyoung on the other side of him trying to keep him lucid with outlandish story after outlandish story, then the inevitable… He sighed to himself and quickly sent the money and an apologetic text before messaging the group chat.

{How did neither of you tell me how embarrassing I was Friday night??}

{We thought you could use the rest, and besides, I thought the video and the hangover would be punishment enough...} 

Seokmin smiled to himself a little. He never thought Jeonghan would be the one to try and spare a little bit of his dignity, but he knew that his friend loved him enough deep down to protect his feelings.

{Hyung, that was you who wanted us to all send him Venmo requests and pretend like we had to split the whole cost because the cab driver was so pissed.}

{Soonyoung-ah, don’t act like it wasn’t you who somehow got Seungcheol to handle everything, call us a new cab, AND put Seokmin to bed.}

Seokmin rolled his eyes as Jeonghan and Soonyoung started to bicker back and forth about who had been the most shady in the aftermath of Friday night and marveled at how either of them had the energy for any of this.

{Anyway…..thanks for looking out for me, I guess. I feel so bad about Seungcheol-hyung...what should I do? I guess I could send him like a gift card? Flowers? I don’t know, what does he like?}

{Just drop by on the way back home from work tomorrow and apologize. It’s not actually that far out of your way…}

{Ugh, I guess, yeah…}

{Seokminnie, don’t worry, it’s happened to everyone at least once. To Seungcheol, too, any number of times during our freshman year. He’ll understand.}

Seokmin sent a hug sticker in gratitude, and then slumped back on the couch. He’d made an absolute ass of himself, but at least he could make it up to one person. He cringed as he thought about the object of his performative affections and idly wondered if he was a regular around there. Probably, since he was a student...maybe Seungcheol would be willing to pass on an apology. He sighed and took another swig of water, vaguely thinking that he wanted to look not completely wrecked for work in the morning...but feeling completely wrecked by the thought of work in the morning. 

************

If Jihoon found himself putting down his bag at his usual table in The Cherry Pit once classes finished on Monday afternoon, well, that would be because they make a mean cappuccino, not because he had his eyes peeled for anyone tall, bright, and with a killer falsetto to walk through the door again. He grabbed his wallet and tried to quell the irrational disappointment that came with being back in the cafe in broad light of Monday. For a moment, Jihoon had felt like The Cherry Pit was the live house of his dreams, Seokmin’s voice turning the air into silver and gold and channeling the longing of one man into something everyone could feel in their bones. Watching him under the little LED string lights and Edison bulbs glowing overhead somehow felt like watching someone touched by the Muses… Maybe he was getting a little ahead of himself, but Seokmin had something special. And, if Jihoon were honest with himself, he was a little jealous of the way Seokmin could make someone feel like they were the only person in the room, skin heating up a little at the memory.

“Earth to Jihoon. Earth to Jihoon. Are you gonna order or just look out the window and hope that coffee appears?”

Jihoon blinked. “You can’t rush the process, Seungkwan.”

“You’re still fantasizing about that weirdo from the other night aren’t you?” 

Jihoon internally cursed Hansol for not being able to keep anything from his boyfriend. Honestly, that was on him for even talking about Seokmin in the first place. 

“Hansol really can’t keep a secret, can he?”

“No, he just forgot to put headphones in on your call. Didn’t you notice?”

Jihoon stared at the barista blankly before placing his order. “I’ll have a cappuccino.”

“See, now that wasn’t hard, was it?” He called over his shoulder, “Seungcheollie-hyung, one cappuccino for Jihoon. He’s having a tough day in the romance department, so make it how he likes it.” 

“Coming up!”

Jihoon gave an eviscerating glare to the younger man and resented that his personal code of conduct prevented him from doing any more than that.

Seungkwan punched his order into the tablet, remarking lightly, “He really wasn’t even that cute. I don’t know why that ridiculous stunt he pulled was enough to have you all wound up over him.”

“What are you even talking about? Like I told Hansol, the guy just has a good voice is all. I’m _not_ interested like that.”

“Whatever you say, hyung.” Seungkwan smiled benignly and swiped Jihoon’s card, though his expression grew more amused as Jihoon angrily scribbled a signature onto the screen.

In a bit of a huff, Jihoon walked over to the other end of the counter where Seungcheol was just putting out his drink. 

“Don’t let Seungkwan get to you. Shua made him show Mingyu how to sort coffee beans this morning...and then the coffee beans were all on the floor. They just finished picking them up an hour ago…”

Jihoon snickered at the daily consistency of Mingyu’s clumsiness. “Thanks, Seungcheol. It’s really fine. He just got the wrong idea from Hansol.”

Seungcheol laughed quietly and shook his head, “I mean...it _was_ quite the show. Seokmin’s a good guy, though. We were in the same a cappella group in undergrad, so we go way back. I don’t think he meant any harm by singing...er...at you.”

“None taken, none taken.” Jihoon took his drink and headed back to his table to settle in to do some reading. And if he scanned the room one more time to see if someone new had walked in...well, that was no one’s business but his.

************

Seokmin managed to beg off work a little early, passing off a task to a kind _sunbae_ who took pity on how tired he had looked for most of the workday. He hopped off the bus a few blocks away from campus and picked up a bouquet before heading over to apologize and hopefully salvage his friendship. As he opened the door, a little bell tinkled to announce his presence, making Seungcheol look up from where he was working. Seokmin felt a blush immediately spread across his face, and he had to resist the urge to hide behind the flowers. He breathed deeply and stepped forward toward the counter with all the resolve he could muster.

“Hyung, I am so so sorry about Friday night I didn’t realize I had had so much to drink and I didn’t see the Venmo notification until late and I can’t believe I put you and Jeonghan-hyung and Soonyoung-hyung in that position and I really should be more responsible for myself and I just feel awful about the whole thing and--”

“Slow down, slow down. It’s alright!” Seungcheol looked up at the taller man with an affable, bemused smile and put a steadying hand on his forearm. “It happens to everyone.”

Seokmin managed to meet Seungcheol’s eyes and saw the genuine kindness reflected back at him. He felt tears of relief begin to well up in his eyes and looked down again. “I’m really sorry to have ruined your night like that.”

“Nothing ruined at all. Dude, it’s really okay. I got your Venmo, we’re all settled up, haha. Just remind me to make sure you’re drinking water the next time we go out.” 

Seokmin’s face spread into a smile at the potential of “next time.” He realized he didn’t really know why he had drifted away from his old circles as much as he had. He wanted to show that he could stand on his own two feet as an adult...but clearly he still needed a little hand-holding. And, after all, wasn’t his whole job supposed to be about letting people know it’s okay to take help when you need it?

Seungcheol looked down at the bouquet. “Who’re those for? You uh...meeting somebody here?”

“Oh! No, these are for you, or at least for the cafe. I know, it seems romantic. But the guy at the flower shop told me that deep red roses can also mean ‘bashful shame,’ so he recommended them for an apology.” Seokmin passed the flowers over the counter to Seungcheol, who took the oversized bouquet into his arms.

“Uhhh, thanks. This is a lot...of flowers. I bet Mingyu can figure out something to do with them. We’ve been meaning to switch up the centerpieces to something more seasonally appropriate anyway.” Seungcheol glanced over to the side briefly, too quick for Seokmin to quite catch what he was looking at.

Seungcheol paused and considered before addressing him, “Seokmin-ah, you should keep one for yourself, though. Er...well, rather...I think there’s someone here you might want to give one to.” 

Seokmin followed the line of his friend’s earlier glance...and spotted a figure with a baseball cap pulled low over his eyes, engrossed in reading. It was him.

He leaned over the counter and hissed, “Hyung! You didn’t say he was here!” 

“You barely gave me time to get in a word edgewise,” Seungcheol replied in an equally awkward stage whisper, before handing him a single rose from the bouquet. “Just go say hi and tell him that you hope he enjoyed the show on Friday.”

Seokmin wanted to sink into the floor, teleport to space, anything but walk over with a single rose and say hello to a guy he must have humiliated three nights ago. He couldn’t even imagine how he would have reacted if the tables were turned...couldn’t blame him for running out the door as soon as he could.

“Hyung, I feel so bad about it. I must have made him feel so awkward.”

“Well, if that’s what you think, go apologize then. You’re already revved up.”

Seokmin faltered before looking up to see Seungcheol holding a single red rose out to him, stem first, and mouthing, “Go talk to him.” He wanted to make amends for the weekend, and it was past time he man up and take responsibility for his actions, as uncomfortable as it might be. Seokmin gently grasped the rose from Seungcheol’s hands and turned on his heel towards the little table by the wall. 

As he got closer, he started to make out more of the boy’s features and oh...he was cute. Like...write an essay in your middle school diary level cute. His face was scrunched in a gentle frown, sharp eyes trained on the book resting between his lap and the table, and he chewed his lip a little while underlining some particularly salient point. Everything about him was delicate, but Seokmin’s memory of his voice belied that impression...as did the lean muscle Seokmin could see lurking underneath the other man’s T-shirt. He felt his tongue start to stick to the roof of his mouth, and his mind raced to find the perfect conversation starter. “ _Sorry about the whole serenading thing._ ” “ _Whatcha reading? Looks interesting!_ ” “ _Hey, looks like you’re ready...for a flower._ ” Before he could settle on anything that seemed to fit the occasion, he had arrived in front of the table.

************

Jihoon looked up from his book when he heard the jingle of the bell cut through the rotation of Ariana Grande and Khalid that had been playing all afternoon...Joshua must have been DJ’ing today. He tried not to obviously startle in his chair when he saw Seokmin walk through the door holding a giant bouquet of red roses, looking like he stepped out of the pages of one of the comic books he used to love reading in middle school. His heart swooped a little as the remnants of his twelve-year-old self whispered, “ _What if they’re for me_...” Jihoon batted the thought away quickly, nearly physically waving his hand in the air. If anything, he should be excited by the opportunity to go talk to the guy and see if he could bribe him into a studio session or something. Instead, he felt glued to his chair as he watched the trim man stride up to the counter. He focused back in on his text and tried to ignore whatever conversation was happening out of earshot.

As time passed, though, Jihoon couldn’t help but keep poking his head out of the book to see what was going on. His brain was fried anyway, and he was curious just what kind of relationship Seokmin and Seungcheol had...beyond the confines of a college a cappella club. He saw Seungcheol hold out a single rose to the other man and smirked-- _Guess there’s more going on there than Seungcheol let on_ \--but not without a pang of...something else. It wasn’t like he fell in love at first sight or some fairytale nonsense like that, and, if anything, Seungcheol having a close relationship with Seokmin was a benefit for him...that much easier to approach him to work together. Then, all of a sudden, Jihoon saw him turn in toward his table. “ _Oh shit...is he coming over here_ …” He tried not to look panicked and picked up his pen to underline his reading with extra intensity, deliberately looking down as much as possible and trying to slow his racing heartbeat.

Seokmin cleared his throat, and Jihoon looked up. A single red rose extended towards him. Seokmin looked simultaneously like all of his hopes and dreams resided in Jihoon...and like he’d rather be literally anywhere else but in yet another public romantic performance inside this cafe.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” Jihoon muttered mostly to himself, though he immediately realized the other man could hear him when he flinched a tiny bit.

“I’m uhhh...I don’t really know what to say but...I’m sorry about...the whole…‘Versace on the Floor’ thing from the other night. I don’t know what got into me, but you just seemed like a nice guy and like you could loosen up a little, but that’s not really an excuse so uh...I know this doesn’t make anything up to you but uh...here’s this rose and can I like...buy you a refill?”

Jihoon noticed the man glance down at his empty cup and felt a twinge of appreciation for someone who paid attention to details nearly as much as he did. They stared at each other in silence for a beat too long, as Seokmin awkwardly scratched at the back of his neck.

“Hm...I’ll take you up on that.” Jihoon extended his hand to take the rose, but stopped mid-air, gears turning inside his head. “Buy yourself something, too, and have a seat. Seems like you could use a pick me up.”

Seokmin smiled as Jihoon finally took the rose from his hand, and, for a second, Jihoon felt like a dozen more had bloomed inside his chest. Seokmin’s smile was like feeling sunshine on the first really warm day of spring, when you knew it was time to put away your coats for the rest of the year. 

“Yeah, coming right up.” Seokmin pointed finger guns at Jihoon but then seemed to remember the reality of their situation and gingerly smoothed his slacks, bringing his hands back to his sides before heading to the counter. Jihoon smelled the rose... _Pretty_...and looked up to spot Seungkwan and Mingyu staring like meerkats out of a back room. He shot them what he hoped was his most withering glance and picked up his pen to recommence anxiously tapping it on his leg. 

************

Seokmin carefully balanced the cups on top of their saucers, wondering why he had opted to carry both at the same time. As he bent down to place them on the table, another cappuccino for the guy, a caramel macchiato for him, he paused.

“I just realized I never even said what my name was. Sorry, I’m Seok-”

“You’re Lee Seokmin,” Jihoon interrupted. “You think I’d forget that name after you basically propositioned me at an open mic night?”

Seokmin winced, “That’s fair. And uh...I feel like I should have really asked your name before any of this started, but...” 

“Jihoon. I’m Lee Jihoon.” 

Seokmin shook his extended hand, surprised again at the firm grip and weight he gave to the gesture. He sat down across from him and felt a little overwhelmed at his whole setup. Laptop open on the table next to him, book on his lap, notebook in front of him...a plain pencil case full of pens from Muji. Definitely a student, but not one who was there to play around like he had been.

Jihoon blew on his drink then looked up over his glasses at Seokmin.

“So, about how you can make things up to me. You’re a singer, right?”

Seokmin felt himself start to blush and squirmed a little in his seat. “I mean, I wouldn’t say I am...I’m a social worker. Sang a little in college I guess, but nothing to write home about, haha.”

Jihoon gazed at him with a glint in his eyes and Seokmin swallowed hard. He wasn’t sure he liked where this was going, but there was something about Jihoon that made him feel like he might say yes to just about anything he asked.

“I’m doing an MA here right now, music production. And I’ve been looking for someone to record guide vocals for me, nothing serious. You’re good, like...damn good, and...” Jihoon took a sip. “You owe me.” 

Seokmin’s heart skipped a beat at the way Jihoon smirked up at him. He scratched his neck again. “I don’t know about all that. It’s just a hobby, and I’m really out of practice…”

“Sure, but a voice like yours doesn’t need that much practice...and you know it.” 

Seokmin’s blush began to burn in earnest as he shook his head, “You should probably find like a professional or something. I could look around online or like see if any of my friends know anyone or…” He trailed off into a slightly uncomfortable silence, not really knowing where to go next.

Seokmin watched as Jihoon picked a pen out of his case and scribbled down an address and a phone number. He ripped out the page from his notebook and slid it over, “Look, if you’re interested, I’m going to be in the studio this weekend. Saturday from like 2PM on. Drop me a line if you can make it.” 

Seokmin took the page in his hand and considered it for a second. It wasn’t like he had any plans this weekend, and, after last weekend’s antics, he was looking for a...quieter way to pass the time. Besides, he _did_ want to make things even with Jihoon...and it didn’t hurt that he was adorable...but in a way that let you know that you might get bitten if you confused his cuteness for weakness. By the time Seokmin looked up again, Jihoon had drained the last of his cup and was packing up his things to go.

“Just like, think about it at least?” He swung his bag over his shoulder, and Seokmin pretended not to notice the line that it cut across his chest.

“Yeah, uh sure...I’ll think about it,” Seokmin replied, mostly to the other man’s retreating frame. He looked down to see half his macchiato still left and took a sip, suddenly feeling that it was far too sweet for the moment and wondering how he ended up with Computer Boy’s number in his hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And finally these two dorks meet! Thanks so much for reading and apologies for the late update T_T. I cycled through a bunch of different scenarios for their meet-cute before ultimately settling on this one...


	3. Head to toe so player

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jihoon cringed as he realized that he’d be sending Seokmin a recording he had quickly made in his bathroom using his smartphone. He wasn’t the worst singer in the world or anything, but this definitely wasn’t the way he wanted someone to first encounter his voice. He attached the file and typed Seokmin’s address-- _why the hell is it excalibur_ \--and sent it over with a sigh. His phone buzzed again as he walked out of the classroom.

Jihoon wiped a bit of sweat from his face as he walked across campus. His mind was racing twice as fast as he could walk and beating a litany of “ _Shit, shit, shit...”_ He couldn’t erase the image of Seokmin standing in front of him, holding out a rose, _a rose_. It had sparked something inside him, a voice, whispering, “ _You miss 100 percent of the shots you don’t take._ ” So what else could he do but square up and take a jump shot from outside the perimeter? And sure, maybe this Seokmin guy wouldn’t show, or would throw away his number, or thinks he’s a complete weirdo for inviting someone he doesn’t even know to a random address. But Jihoon would kind of do anything to hear his voice again. Listening to Seokmin, even when he was just talking, felt like when you can almost finish humming the tune of a song you can’t quite remember. He just needed to hear a little bit more, and it would all fall into place. Jihoon knew he was getting ahead of himself again...he honestly didn’t know why he didn’t just ask someone in his program to record for him. That would have been the logical solution here, rather than getting Seokmin involved in what he must think is some dumb class project. But the thought of Seokmin on the other side of the glass, singing _his_ music...that was enough to try a 3-point buzzer beater in overtime and see what landed.

By the time he walked up the worn marble steps to the fine arts building, he had shuffled through about five different songs to try and score his emotional state. He also barely missed running into about five different undergrads walking out of lecture halls before he managed to go downstairs to the studios on the lower level and slip into a well-lit room filled with sculptures in various states of completion. 

“Wasn’t expecting to see you here this early. Aren’t we meeting for dinner with Hansol at 6?” 

Jihoon winced as his attempts to enter unnoticed had gone unrewarded. Even though Minghao barely looked up from his work, he could always tell when someone’s entrance had shifted the air in his studio. Jihoon suspected it was actually the distinctive jingle of the keychain on his bag.

“Yeah, but I finished up with things early. Thought you might like some company down here. Doesn’t it get a little weird being surrounded by a bunch of inanimate...beings all the time?” He placed his bag on one of the tables along the wall and leaned back to watch Minghao run his hand along a marble figure whose lines he was just beginning to expose to the light.

“They’re only inanimate if you don’t value the life you breathe into them,” Minghao retorted with a beatific smirk in Jihoon’s direction. “I was doing just fine by myself, but feel free to hang out if you want. I canceled my office hours this week so I’d have more time to prepare for my show. There shouldn’t be any students coming by.”

Jihoon shrugged in acknowledgement before hopping up on the table to break out his laptop and headphones to play around with some new ideas. He folded himself into a cross-legged position and opened up Ableton, but before he could really settle in, Minghao cleared his throat in a way that echoed throughout the drafty studio. Jihoon startled and looked up to see his friend staring not at him, but his bag, where a burst of red popped out of a rectangle of practical, solid black.

“What’s that?” Minghao leisurely tipped his head in Jihoon’s general direction, then put down his chisel before wiping his hands on his apron and making his way over to the table. 

“Oh uh...it’s a flower. A rose, I guess. Picked it up at the cafe.”

“Picked it up? From the table? I didn’t take you for a thief, Lee Jihoon.”

“No, no, you think Mingyu would have let me walk out of there with a part of one of his ‘pieces’? There was this kid, this guy there...and he gave it to me.”

Minghao raised his eyebrows as he perched himself on the rectangular table next to Jihoon. “Now I’m intrigued. Last I knew, Valentine’s Day was three months ago.”

“It’s only April, Minghao.”

“Two, three, who’s really counting? In any case, who is this mysterious man, and why is he handing out roses to innocent young grad students simply trying to work?”

“I’m older than you!” Jihoon sputtered, getting flustered at the way he could feel a giggle creeping into the edges of Minghao’s voice. “Look it was just like...a weird apology thing.”

“Apology?” This time, Minghao furrowed his eyebrows into a look of more genuine concern.

“It was no big deal, he just like sang to me the other night and felt weird about it.”

“Sang to you...the other night?” Minghao repeated Jihoon’s words as if he was unsure of the fundamental concepts being expressed. 

“Yes. He was drunk, he sang to me, and he wanted to make it up to me. End of story.” Jihoon was beginning to regret not tucking the rose somewhere deep within his bag to get crushed with his pencil case and some assorted change. 

“And he brought you...a rose?”

“Well, no, he brought the cafe roses...look, this is a longer story than I want it to be. Let’s just say he apologized, I accepted, and he’s coming to help me out with some stuff in the studio this weekend.” So, Seokmin hadn’t confirmed yet. Minghao didn’t need to know that he was going to spend the week on tenterhooks wondering whether or not Seokmin would actually show.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, since when do you invite random guys from cafes to come to the studio with you?”

“Since when are you so curious about who does and doesn’t come to my studio?” Jihoon cut a look at Minghao that indicated his line of questioning would get no further. 

“Since you started getting seduced by singing strangers…” Minghao hummed to himself and made to head back to his work. He turned over his shoulder, “Is he cute at least?”

Jihoon leveled a glance at the chisel Minghao had left resting on a vacant pedestal and contemplated making a remark as to its alternative uses. Minghao matched his glance instantly, and before Jihoon could mutter a threat, let out a giggle which rang through the studio, just beginning to turn orange in the rays of sunset. 

************

Seokmin sat down at his desk Wednesday morning, still feeling a little groggy from a night spent watching far too many ASMR soap carving videos, before finally crashing at 1AM. As he unpacked his work bag onto his desk, a paper fluttered down to the floor. Seokmin quickly reached for it and tucked it away again, but not without feeling a stutter in his heart at the sight of the scribbles of blue ink on the page. When he walked out of the cafe on Monday, Seungcheol had shot him a quick thumbs up before taking care of some customers who had just come in. He had carefully folded Jihoon’s paper and stashed it away in his bag, but getting control of his expression as he walked down the street to his bus stop was a struggle.His brain was doing a detailed dissection of Jihoon’s every gesture, word, and tone. _Why did he invite me to sit with him when it seemed like he kind of wanted me to disappear into thin air? Why does he think that *I* have the right voice for his actual, important work? How did he manage to down a cappuccino in like five minutes? Did he notice when he licked some of the froth from his lip? Was that on purpose? And what does “Drop me a line” mean??_ He had felt like Jihoon’s sharp glances had cut right to his core, but not necessarily in a bad way... Like that first night at The Cherry Pit, something about his presence made Seokmin want to go after _something_ , _anything_. His stomach grumbled, interrupting the swirl of questions in his head. The echo of a light breakfast eaten too quickly, he supposed.

Seokmin shook his head to escape his thoughts, clapped his face once for good measure, then reached for his mug before heading to the communal coffee pot for a morning pick-me-up. As he waited for the Keurig to reach its last shuddering groan, a voice broke into his contemplation of the break room’s tiled counter.

“You look like hell warmed over. Another late night?” Wonwoo from accounting reached his long arm across where Seokmin stood in order to grab a tea bag for his mug.

Seokmin chuckled grimly. “Yeah...finished up with the first quarter stuff last week but just...got some things on my mind.”

Wonwoo hummed with absent-minded interest. He was nice enough to get lunch with from time to time and had helped Seokmin get acquainted with the office but had never been one to pry into his co-workers’ business.

“Well, hope you can let off some steam this weekend. Got plans with those college friends you always go out with?”

Seokmin raised his eyebrows at Wonwoo’s unexpected expression of interest in his personal life. “Oh...uhh...probably not. I told a friend I’d help him at his uh, studio. He needs someone to record guide vocals? And I said I’d help him out.”

“Really? I didn’t know you sang.”

“Yeah, a cappella in college.” Seokmin gave a wan smile to Wonwoo, who seemed to be lingering longer than usual over his steeping tea bag.

“That’s so cool. What kind of music does your friend make? Like rock? Indie stuff? Rap? I never took you for much of a rapper but…”

“Huh, I actually...I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m supposed to be singing.” Seokmin laughed incredulously to himself.

“If you’re going to be recording guide vocals...don’t you need to know what the song is first?”

Seokmin had no idea why that fact hadn’t clicked for him any time earlier. He had been so focused on what Computer Boy-- _Jihoon_ \--meant by inviting him in the first place that logistics had completely gone out the window. He imagined Jihoon must have been waiting for him to text with an answer before sending him anything and hoped he hadn’t seemed incredibly rude for taking this much time to think things over. Think things over...even though he knew his decision had been made the moment he took hold of Jihoon’s paper. 

“Yeah, yeah, that’s true.”

Wonwoo gave him a strange look before patting him gently on the arm as he moved to pick up his tea. “Yeah, well...take it easy today, okay?”

“Thanks...yeah, I will.” Seokmin picked up his coffee and followed Wonwoo out of the break room. Once he reached his desk, he pulled out the paper from where he had stashed it in his bag and smoothed it out. He opened the messaging app on his phone--the actual one that came with the phone, not KaTalk--and punched in Jihoon’s number. There was something so stiff and formal about messaging someone without access to a library of stickers, but this was a transactional negotiation anyway. After debating whether or not emoji usage would be unprofessional, he exhaled and pressed send.

{Hey, this is Seokmin from the cafe. I’m just messaging bc I’ll be there this weekend. Saturday at 2?} 

Seokmin quickly turned his phone over to face the top of his desk and logged into his work laptop. He wasn’t expecting a quick response. Jihoon might be in lecture or something, writing down everything he could, eyes bright and focused on taking in every little bit of information. But Seokmin also couldn’t deny the way his fingers were itching to turn over his phone every five minutes, just in case. He didn’t know what Jihoon had in store for him, but his feelings from earlier were quickly moving from trepidation to excitement. 

************

Jihoon’s phone buzzed in the middle of lecture. It earned him a few glances of disapproval from some of the more diligent disciples of this particular professor. He could have sworn he turned off notifications for all of his messaging apps...all except the actual SMS function on his phone. But it’s not like anyone uses that anymore, probably a spam message that he could delete after class. Jihoon continued tapping his pencil lightly against his cheek, attempting to pay attention to a dry explanation of Wagner’s influence on video game music. But the lingering feeling of the buzz in his pants pocket got the better of his self-control. A quick look wouldn’t hurt anyone anyway. “ _Hey, this is Seokmin…_ ” Jihoon hastily stashed his phone back into his pocket, but not hastily enough that it didn’t catch Hansol’s notice.

{👀}

Jihoon groaned internally as the message notification flashed across his laptop screen. He clicked away from his notetaking to send a quick response.

{Nothing. Just a spam message.}

{Nothing, my ass.}

{You look like someone accidentally sent you a sext.} 

{Or did your mom ask you to come home for the summer again?}

Jihoon winced at the juxtaposition of those two ideas and tapped out a reply.

{It’s just Seokmin, that guy from before…}

{I gave him my number}

{And invited him to the studio this weekend}

{You what???}

{He’s just going to help me lay down some vocals. It’s no big deal}

{Damn, hyung...smooth af.}

{I’m impressed. 😳}

Jihoon kicked Hansol under the long desk they sat at together and pointedly navigated back to Google Docs. He couldn’t process why everyone was making this more of A Thing than it was. Seungkwan must have told Hansol about the whole rose thing, but like...Seokmin would-- _or wouldn’t_ \--come to the studio for a few hours, he’d record, they’d go their separate ways. That would be that. Jihoon did his best to ignore the little flame of hope that maybe Seokmin would want to make it a regular thing or something. He didn’t even know if he had said yes in the first place. 

At that moment, he noticed Hansol closing his notebook and slipping it into his backpack and realized the lecture was wrapping up. Jihoon’s open document displayed a broken sentence--“ _Electronic music’s roots can be found in orchestr..._ ” thoughts interrupted by Schroedinger’s Seokmin, both already in his studio and absolutely never going to step into it. He tried to look at his phone as nonchalantly as possible, hyper-aware of Hansol’s studied attempts to seem like he was ignoring him, and opened the message. 

{Hey, this is Seokmin from the cafe. I’m just messaging bc I’ll be there this weekend. Saturday at 2?}

Unbidden, a grin spread across Jihoon’s face. Hansol’s cough quickly wiped it away, and Jihoon stuffed his phone into his back pocket. 

“You’ve got lunch with Seungkwan today, right? I’ll see you...later.”

“Yeah, yeah, see you, hyung.” Hansol tried to deadpan but the hints of a laugh were pulling at the corners of his mouth as he turned away.

Now that he could respond in peace, Jihoon retrieved his phone. 

{Oh, that’s great. I gave you the address, right?}

{Yeah...that’s all good.}

{But uh...should I like...prepare something?}

Jihoon felt his blood run backwards for a second. He had been so distracted, or focused, or something else on Monday that he forgot to even mention... _what_ he wanted Seokmin to sing. 

{Oh, yeah. I should have sent the file to you before now.}

{I’ll send it this afternoon.}

{Must have just slipped my mind}

{You didn’t have my contact info!}

{Don’t worry about it 😅}

{It’s probably easier to email, right?}

{I’m excalibur@hotmail.com}

Seokmin’s easy manner almost made Jihoon wonder why he had felt the need to cover in the first place. But what the hell was that email address...who uses hotmail? Jihoon shook his head lightly and sat down again at the table. He still had a little time before the next class would start to filter into the lecture hall. 

[Great. Thanks. I’ll send it over now.}

Jihoon cringed as he realized that he’d be sending Seokmin a recording he had quickly made in his bathroom using his smartphone. He wasn’t the worst singer in the world or anything, but this definitely wasn’t the way he wanted someone to first encounter his voice. He attached the file and typed Seokmin’s address-- _why the hell is it excalibur_ \--and sent it over with a sigh. His phone buzzed again as he walked out of the classroom.

{Just got it 🙏}

{I’ll make sure to be ready by Saturday.}

{Have a good rest of your day and don’t study too hard 🧠}

A quiet smile began in Jihoon’s eyes, even if he didn’t quite let it reach his mouth. Maybe he would take a longer lunch than usual today before heading back to the studio.

By the time Saturday morning rolled around, Jihoon was antsier than he could ever remember being on a weekend. He hadn’t heard from Seokmin since he sent over the file, but had spent the last two days tweaking and fine tuning the instrumentation in order to best suit Seokmin’s voice. Sure, he had recorded other vocalists before now, bandmates, classmates, friends...but having Seokmin in the studio was going to be different. As he ate a bowl of cereal at his counter, Jihoon found himself thinking back to the time he had taken a school field trip to a candy factory and saw how old fashioned hand-pulled candy was made. He remembered looking up in amazement at the way that it stretched, that it could be shaped in any way you wanted it to be… He wanted to touch it, but his teacher had warned him about burning his hands, noting the gloves that each of the workers wore. So instead, he just watched in awe as the staff members colored, rolled, and shaped the molten sugar into mouth-watering shapes. When they had actually gotten a chance to taste test at the end of the tour, he had been disappointed that the flavor didn’t actually match what he had imagined, perhaps the beginning of the end of his romance with sugar. But the impression lingered years after the trip was over. 

Jihoon dumped his bowl in the sink--he’d wash dishes later--and headed toward his wardrobe. He usually would spend his weekends in sweatpants and a T-shirt, but the air had been a little brisk when he woke up. He shrugged on what he felt was his nicest hoodie, checked his phone-- _11:30, not too early_ \--and headed over to the studio. 

************ 

Seokmin pulled on the hem of his shirt one last time before he texted Jihoon from outside the door. He knew he had spent an inordinate amount of time shuffling through his T-shirts before settling on throwing a red Adidas track jacket over a plain gray cotton blend. _What says casual but not college kid...like a cool professional guy on their day off? But not like, trying too hard..._ Jeonghan and Soonyoung had been of little help, as usual, with Soonyoung suggesting he cut one of his shirts into a crop top, and Jeonghan suggesting he wear the pair of shorts he bought on the beach vacation they took during Jeonghan’s senior week. Nevermind that the weather was still unseasonably chilly for mid-April. 

{Hi, I’m outside...hope I’m at the right door}

Seokmin fiddled with his phone without looking at it for a few moments, hoping that going with ripped black jeans wouldn’t make him look like he was trying to pursue some thwarted rockstar dreams. He switched to absently scrolling through Twitter and was about to message his group chat for moral support, when the door suddenly swung inwards. He wasn’t sure what he expected when Jihoon opened the door, but he looked impossibly...cozy, soft even. Not like the oddly intense student who had driven this bargain in the first place. Jihoon looked up at him over his round glasses, blue hoodie pulled over his head; and now that they were standing, Seokmin became suddenly cognizant of their height difference.

“Hey.”

“H-hey.” Seokmin stammered, unsure why he felt so caught off guard.

Jihoon shifted his weight back slightly and held the door open a little wider. 

“You gonna come in or…?”

“Yeah, yeah, sorry.” Seokmin stepped into the somewhat dimly lit hallway and followed Jihoon past a series of doors. He felt the silence between them weighing heavily, only punctuated by the slap of Jihoon’s slides as he padded in front of him. He looked around curiously. As they passed an open area, he noticed a few music-types, sporting tattoos or piercings, taking a break over coffee and soft drinks. In high school, he remembered looking up to those kinds of kids, the ones his parents told him to stay away from and who he had been too docile to try to get close to. Jihoon turned a corner in front of him and walked a few meters before stopping in front of a heavy door. 

“This is it. Uh, thanks...thanks for coming today.” Jihoon hesitated while pulling down the door handle. 

“Yeah, it was nothing. I didn’t have any plans or anything so…” Seokmin smiled sheepishly, trying to ease the tension that hung in the atmosphere. It was only natural. It’s not like they knew each other at all, and he was just doing Jihoon a favor before they both moved on with their lives and forgot any of this ever happened.

Jihoon stepped into the dark room and flipped on the lights. “Sorry again about the file. I hope it was still enough time to prepare.”

Seokmin gently entered the room and let his eyes get adjusted. He noticed a half-drunk bottle of cola on the desk next to an empty takeout container. Jihoon had clearly been here getting ready, long before Seokmin even stepped on the bus. He swallowed a little thickly and tried to ignore the butterflies that were starting to beat in his stomach. He knew the song, had honestly had it on repeat during his commute every day since Wednesday, but what if he wasn’t as ready as Jihoon expected him to be? Even if this was just a one off thing, he wanted to be able to impress him, if only to make up for the previous awkwardness he had caused.

“Yeah, yeah, I think so. Like I said, I’m not a pro or anything, but I’ll give it my best shot.” He wiped his hands on his pants. “It’s a beautiful song, you know.”

Jihoon turned back to face him, fluorescent lights doing nothing to hide the flush that had started to burn across his face. He ducked his head a bit, hood falling further over his bangs and mumbled a word of thanks. Seokmin felt a sudden desire to feel if Jihoon’s cheeks were as warm as they seemed to be. He smiled, with a little less bashfulness this time and stepped closer to the desk.

“Is this whole set-up yours?” Seokmin’s eyes ranged across the soundboard, laptop and multiple monitors that covered the surface. 

“No, just the laptop. Everything else belongs to the studio. My program helps us rent space for the semester, and I lucked out and got a Saturday slot.” Jihoon seemed a bit proud of this point, sidling past Seokmin to wake up his laptop from sleep mode. 

“Huh, it’s pretty cool in here, though. Always wondered what it looked like inside a real recording studio.” 

Jihoon had sat down in the rolling chair in front of the desk and looked up at Seokmin quizzically. 

“Is this really your first time? Recording anything?”

Seokmin laughed a little under his breath, “Yeah, I mean I’ve sung since I was a kid...just for fun. And then I did a cappella in college...with Seungcheol-hyung. But we never did any like, real recording and stuff.”

Jihoon gave him another look, one of those glances that felt like he saw a version of Seokmin invisible to the naked eye, and sighed.

“Well, don’t worry too much about it or anything. If you just sing like you did at open mic night, you’ll be perfect.”

“I’ve got my original audience, so at least one thing’s right.” Seokmin full-body cringed at his own line and turned toward the door. “Too soon, huh?”

Jihoon grimaced a little, though it seemed more like an attempt to hide a smile, and ducked beneath the desk to flip another switch. 

“Let’s just go over the basics of how this will work.”

Seokmin turned back to see Jihoon turned back towards him with a not unfriendly smirk on his face. He took a breath, hoped he had drunk enough tea in the morning, and stepped toward the desk.

************ 

To say it was his first time in a recording studio, Seokmin picked up on the explanations Jihoon gave him remarkably quickly. He asked questions and seemed genuinely interested in the technical ins and outs of what Jihoon would be doing. Before either of them realized, a few hours had passed before he actually made it into the recording booth. After a few warm up exercises, Seokmin smiled at Jihoon from the other side of the glass and settled the headphones on his ears. They looked good on him...he looked good in general...at home. Jihoon pressed the mic button on the soundboard.

“You ready?”

“Yeah, just let me pull up the lyrics.”

Jihoon watched as the other man’s long fingers tapped through his phone. He knew he had set this all up as a way to even the score or something like that, but all of a sudden he felt like he was the one about to be revealed to Seokmin in a way he hadn’t anticipated. No, that wasn’t quite right. It wasn’t that he would be revealed but that Seokmin’s voice might tell him how his own was heard. The song he had sent Seokmin was an older composition, just a shortish ballad that he was thinking of reworking for a final assignment. But the prospect of hearing himself--his words, the melodies in his head--filtered back through Seokmin’s voice thrilled him, yet made him feel a little bit exposed. Jihoon saw Seokmin stop scrolling and flash him a thumbs up. He pressed the mic button again, “Let’s do it,” and cued the music for Seokmin. 

_Oh._

He didn’t know what he had hoped for. He knew he had been building this moment up all week, but when Seokmin opened his mouth every thought he had had, every preparation he had agonized over...just flew out the window. It would be easy to say his voice was sweet like honey or some other overused metaphor, but it was something much more rich and complicated than that. Listening to Seokmin’s voice curl around Jihoon’s lyrics was like watching sugar caramelize on the stove. He brought his entire self to the melody, breath and body, and infused the song with something that seemed to change its elemental composition. It was like watching alchemy in action. Jihoon remembered that he had first written the track for one of his now defunct band projects, but after hearing how Seokmin’s voice transformed it, he couldn’t imagine it belonging to anyone else. Seokmin sang out the last note, and Jihoon felt like he did when he was waking up and doing his best to hold on to the last little wisps of a dream. He paused for a moment to collect himself but noticed that the other man was beginning to look worried and quickly buzzed back in.

“Seokmin...that was...yeah. That was it.” Jihoon flipped through a mental thesaurus, looking for words to describe his feelings, but found himself coming up empty. “That was amazing...it’s your song now.”

Seokmin beamed under Jihoon’s praise before quickly turning shy. He waved his hand dismissively before sliding one headphone off his ear.

“It’s all you, it’s a great track. And I’m sure whoever you get for the real version will be even better.” He looked down slightly. “Actually, do you mind if we do a little more? We can record each part separately you said, right? There’s a part in the second chorus that felt a little off to me.”

Jihoon felt like he was still too busy looking for words to really refuse, not that he’d ever refuse more time listening to Seokmin. 

“Yeah, sure, if you want to, yeah. Let’s take it from there.”

Seokmin smiled back at him through the glass, and Jihoon felt a little like he could do this every weekend for every song for the rest of his life. But that seemed like a tall order for someone who had only agreed to go along with Jihoon’s ridiculous strong-arming this one time. He didn’t want to push his luck and scare Seokmin off, but watching him come to life in front of the microphone was a sight he was pretty sure he’d never get tired of. 

After about 5 or 6 rounds of re-takes, Jihoon called him back over to his side of the glass.

“Are you sure, we can do it a few more times if you think--”

“No, Seokmin, you’ve already done more than enough for me today.” Jihoon hoped it didn’t seem like he was rushing the other man, but he really didn’t want to take up any more of his time if he didn’t have to. “I’m just going to be doing some mixing for the rest of the time, so like if you want to head out?”

Seokmin nodded, then hesitated. “Yeah, yeah sure...Is it okay actually...can we listen to the first take I did?” 

Jihoon felt a little flustered at the request. There was something oddly intimate about the idea of listening to Seokmin sing...with the man in question right next to him. But, it was only natural that he would be curious. He swallowed and nodded.

“Of course.”

When Seokmin stepped around to Jihoon’s side, he felt suddenly aware of just how warm he was, physically. He figured the lights in the recording booth were hot, and knew it got stuffy inside. But he couldn’t help but feel hyper conscious of the heat radiating off of Seokmin’s body as he leaned his elbows on the desk next to Jihoon. He pressed play and they both listened in silence for about 45 seconds until the playback was suddenly interrupted by a loud rumble to Jihoon’s left. He looked up to see Seokmin grinning apologetically. 

“You wanna get dinner after this?” Jihoon’s voice came out unexpectedly pitchy.

“Yeah, that’d be nice. You know anywhere around here?” 

“Yeah, I know a spot.”

Jihoon started the track again and watched Seokmin’s reactions out of the corner of his eye. He seemed at turns focused and bashful, chewing his lip as the gears turned in his mind. Once the recording reached its end, he sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Jihoon looked up at him and wondered if they had been hearing the same thing. Seokmin looked consternated, like he was still kicking himself for non-existent mistakes and wishing he could iron out any imperfection in his voice. Jihoon pushed back from the desk and walked over to turn off the light in the recording booth and took a deep breath.

“Really, it’s great. You gave me everything I needed…Thank you.”

“It was...fun...more fun than I’ve had in awhile. Thank _you_.” Seokmin cracked a small smile, and Jihoon hoped it would stay there for the rest of the night.

He walked over to stand in front of him, looking up with what he hoped was his most mock-serious expression. “Consider us even.” He extended his hand and felt Seokmin’s warmer one take it immediately. The smile from before had blossomed into another of the other man’s grins, and Seokmin nodded firmly to match Jihoon’s fake solemnity. Jihoon released his hand and turned back to the desk, making sure to save his files, turn off the menagerie of devices in front of him, and close his laptop. 

“Let’s go?” Jihoon nodded his head in the general direction of the doorway.

“I could honestly eat two horses right now, so yes.”

As Seokmin stepped back toward the door, Jihoon couldn’t help but chuckle at the other man’s lame--“ _cute,”_ his brain supplied--sense of humor. He felt the spectre of Minghao’s and Hansol’s snickers in the back of his head, but quickly waved them away as he turned out the lights and followed Seokmin into the hallway.

************ 

Jihoon led them to a _phở_ bar not far from the studio, where they sat in silence, more hungry and contemplative than awkward, and perused the menu. Seokmin honestly didn’t know why he was looking. He was just going to order the same thing he did every time he got delivery from the Vietnamese place by his apartment. But the plastic-covered menu offered a resting place for his eyes while he reflected on the session. He was honestly surprised at how few takes Jihoon asked him to do. He felt a little like he was holding the other man hostage with how many times he’d ask to redo a line, but repeated listening had made Jihoon’s words become oddly precious to him. They had kept him company on his commute, in his previously silent apartment...and it seemed like a bit of an injustice to not try and deliver them to the best of his ability. There was also something about Jihoon’s gaze, focused and, at turns, warm through the glass, that made Seokmin want to make his voice stretch a little higher, go a little farther. 

Jihoon’s voice broke through his thoughts. “You know what you want?”

“Yeah, I always just get _phở tái_ with extra noodles. Simple.”

Jihoon nodded in acknowledgment before waving the owner over.

“Can we get two _phở tái_ , extra noodles? And a side of rice? Thanks.”

Seokmin opened his mouth to order before his brain caught up to the situation. Jihoon kind of felt like he was always one step ahead of him. It was a challenge to keep up, but part of what seemed to keep pulling him back into the other man’s orbit. Since he graduated and started his job, he had felt a bit like he was treading water. Being with Jihoon was a different kind of overwhelming, but one that made him feel like he could feel his feet on solid ground...and maybe even keep up if he tried. 

The bowls of soup came out hot and steaming, and Seokmin watched as Jihoon carefully placed his glasses on the countertop and began to inhale the noodles and rice. Jeonghan and Soonyoung always teased him about how much and how quickly he could eat, but Jihoon was on a different level. Seokmin decided this area wasn’t necessarily one he needed to keep up in, and dug into his soup at his own pace. After a few minutes of enthusiastic slurping, he put down his chopsticks and took a drink of water.

“After you sent me the file and I heard your voice, I was really glad I said yes.”

Jihoon looked startled and paused with his chopsticks in the air. 

“Oh?” He choked out. 

“Yeah, I mean it, you know? I’m more of a rock guy myself, but I kinda couldn’t stop listening to it after you sent it to me. It was just...you sounded so rich but like clear? Like a really good...raspberry jam?”

Jihoon looked at him incredulously, and, for a moment, Seokmin worried he had done something horribly rude _again_. Then, he heard Jihoon start to laugh, not even laugh, but giggle, with a smile wider than he realized could fit on the other man’s face.

“Jam? Jam? What the hell does that even mean? Like I get it. I get the feeling of it. Maybe? I don’t know...What is that? First time I’ve heard someone call my voice a condiment.” Jihoon’s laughs wound back down to chuckles, but Seokmin passed him a napkin so he could wipe the tears that had formed at the corners of his eyes. 

“Sorry, was that weird?”

“No, I mean yes, but...thank you, I think.” Jihoon caught his breath, while Seokmin nearly lost his at the way the other man’s voice had been softened by laughter. 

“I just meant, it’s nice. Your voice is nice. And it was...nice to learn to sing with it.”

Jihoon put his own chopsticks down and wiped the napkin across his mouth. He screwed up his face--Seokmin held his breath a little--but then it seemed like he resolved some internal conflict.

“You...do you want to come back next week? No pressure or anything, I’ve just got some other songs I’ve been working on that...I think might really suit you.” Now that Jihoon had taken his hood off, the heat of the soup getting to him, Seokmin could see that his ears turned an even brighter shade of red than his cheeks did. It was hopelessly endearing. He started to wonder what else could make Jihoon blush...but cut off the thought before it could venture much further.

Seokmin held his breath for a second longer before answering,“I’d...yeah, I’d really like that. Thanks.” 

“Great, great. Uh, my weekend slot’s every Saturday, 11 to 5, so just like...anytime you’re free during then.”

“I’m your man!” Seokmin moved his arm into an awkward salute before realizing that his mouth and body were one big mixed metaphor. He fell back into an embarrassed grin...then felt his heart flip when Jihoon returned his smile. 

“I mean, I’ll like check my schedule, but yeah, Saturdays are typically good for me.” 

“Good, good.” Jihoon smiled a little lopsidedly at him, then picked up his chopsticks and resumed eating. They finished quickly—the energy of navigating a new interaction had made them both ravenous—while Seokmin studiedly tried to keep his legs from bumping against the underside of the counter...or Jihoon’s thighs.

After ascertaining that, though they were only 3 months apart in age, Jihoon was technically the elder party, Seokmin waited outside while Jihoon finished paying the bill. He tried not to stare through the window but found himself drawn to the way Jihoon self-assuredly held himself. There was something about him that seemed so put-together and steady, but at the same time held this flustered kid who blushes when some nobody says they like his music. Seokmin felt like he couldn’t quite square the circle of Jihoon yet, but he was glad he might have more chances to try. 

“Ready?” Jihoon’s voice brought him back to reality.

“Yeah, my bus stop’s just over there.” Seokmin checked his bus tracker app. “Next one should be here in about 5 minutes.”

“I’ll wait with you. I’m walking home anyway.”

“You really don’t have to. I’m a big boy, hyung.” Seokmin lightly tested the waters, hoping that he wasn’t overstepping boundaries of intimacy that had yet to be set. Jihoon’s breath hitched a bit. Seokmin chalked it up to the chilly breeze that had just blown past and made them wrap their arms a little tighter as they walked. 

“Nah, I don’t really have anywhere to be.” 

An easy pause fell between them as they reached the bus shelter. Jihoon was the first to break it.

“I’ll send you another song when I get home tonight.”

“Would it be easier to talk over like, KaTalk or something? That way you can send files, too.” Seokmin tried not to infuse too much expectation into his voice (or hint that he was curious about Jihoon’s sticker usage...or more likely lack thereof).

“Yeah, sure.” Jihoon pulled out his phone, and, after the inevitable back and forth of whose QR code they’d use, they popped up in each other’s contact list. 

“mallangmallang...rice bowl emoji?” Seokmin eyed Jihoon curiously.

“It’s an old nickname...and what’s it to you, ‘excalibur at hotmail dot com’?”

“Hey, hey! I’ve had it since middle school. We all have a knights-in-shining-armor phase at some point.”

“Yeah, just most of us get over it.” Jihoon smiled up at Seokmin churlishly, but before he could ready an effective riposte, the squeaky groan of the city bus’s pneumatic brakes interrupted them. 

“This is mine. I’ll see you next week?”

“Yeah, see you then.”

Seokmin found a seat by the window near the back of the bus and gave Jihoon a small little wave goodbye. As the bus pulled away, he chanced another look back out the window. Jihoon was getting smaller and smaller, but stayed a steady point in the distance. Seokmin smiled quietly to himself and hoped he wouldn’t have to do much work to clear his calendar for next weekend. He brought out his phone to text an update to Jeonghan and Soonyoung (and let them know that Jihoon wasn’t an axe-murderer) but found his fingers opening up a new chat with Jihoon instead. 

{Thanks for today 😊} 

Seokmin breathed out and hoped it wasn’t too much to text on the bus ride home. His phone immediately buzzed.

{👍}

Seokmin sighed. Everyone knows the “thumbs up emoji” might as well be “Ok.” He nearly slid his phone back into his pocket when he felt it vibrate again.

{See you next week. Don’t be late🕑}

Seokmin felt his heart jump in his chest, just a little, and let himself hum a tune under his breath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm late! I'm late! I'm very very late! Comeback, the US election and just plain life comes at you fast. Many apologies for the ridiculous delay. m(__)m
> 
> Infinite thanks to everyone who's left comments and kudos! They are my greatest inspiration to keep following these kids on their journey. <3

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks always to the Horangdolly for beta'ing and to Janie for encouraging my ranting in the chat. I'm planning to post a new chapter at least weekly, so keep an eye out for updates.
> 
> I'm still a baby fic writer, so please leave kudos, comments, and suggestions! They are welcome and appreciated! <3
> 
> If you want to hang out on Twitter, find me @TheS_standsfor. Alternatively, if you're hanging out in the overgrown, abandoned village that is Tumblr, find me @cherries-jubilee.


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